The Predators: The Beneficial Union
by Winged-Kitsune2
Summary: "I'm tired of watching as so many alternates ruin themselves, their realms, and die, and I'm not just going to sit back and take it anymore." "Well, what are you going to do?" "Something proactive. Are you with me?" A union of alternates, a war hawk, a mysterious empire, and the threat of interdimensional anarchy, what will happen? Rated M for possible language and blood.
1. A Meeting with Paradox

/A:N/ NOTE! This is part of The Hero Squad series (dumb name, I know) and that series is part of The Predators series. Basically, this is a series within a series.

Ben sat at a Mister Smoothie's table, enjoying his day off, an icy beverage in hand. The weather, while a bit on the hot side, was tolerable and made even better by the smoothie he occasionally gulped down. For the first time in a long time, he had nothing to do. No plans, no surprise encounters with his foes or a random alien, nothing. Everything was perfect.

Ben's smile fell as he felt the familiar tingle of energy rise within him, responding to the forming portal before it even entered an existing state.

"Professor Paradox, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Ben asked, of bothering to turn to face the approaching other. He should have known this was coming.

"I need a word with you, Ben." He said, a deep frown on his face.

"Can't it wait? This is literally the first day off I've gotten since Gwen left for college, and I don't see any other days like this coming up, either." Ben said, finally turning to face the elder man, surprising Paradox with the annoyance in his expression. Paradox almost took a step back, startled by the strange behavior. Of all the things he expected, this was not one of them.

Paradox calmed quickly, his expression turning to one of understanding.

"So, you know why I'm here?" He asked, sitting down beside Ben under the shade of the provided umbrella.

"Uhah." Ben hummed in response, taking a gulp of his smoothie.

"Then would you mind explaining to me why your original dimension is nothing but an empty void?" Paradox interrogated, still calm. Ben's swallowing of the swig was drawn out, as though he felt the matter to not be a pressing one. He was casual, too casual.

"If you think it was empty, then you haven't been looking through it for very long." Ben told, amused, before continuing, a bit more serious.

"It was erased, but no one else remembers that." Ben stated, sounding as though he were talking of something simple and easily comprehended. Paradox didn't like it, not one bit.

"How?!" Paradox demanded, horrified. Ben opened one eye, raising a hand and signaling for the other to be patient, for he had returned the straw to his lips. He swallowed again, setting the cup down, and set his hands overtop each other. Ben's eyes drifted to his left wrist, and he spoke.

"Can't say, I never really knew. Some weird, all-powerful erase box-thingy did it." He explained.

"I rebuilt my universe with Alien X, but no one believed me when I told them that. They think me delusional, can you believe that?" He asked, releasing a dark chuckle.

"None of them are the originals, only us. Funny, huh? We sure think so." Paradox quirked a brow at the suggested others to have made it from the first world. Well, the first version of _this_ world.

"Us?" Paradox asked. Ben waved a dismissive hand.

"Unimportant," Ben told "what would be is your silence. None of them know, and none of them believe, after all, ignorance is bliss, my friend." Another chuckle, the likes of which a mere imitation of mirth.

Paradox frowned, though he was humoring the idea in his mind. Was this right? Should he play along?

"I won't tell them, there would be no point in doing so." Paradox ensured.

"Wise man, Paradox." Ben commented, one side of his mouth raising higher in a slight smirk. It didn't take long for Paradox to understand why.

"I didn't have a choice, eh?" Paradox questioned, sensing the tension that had accumulated in the air.

"Not really, no." Ben replied, his smirk growing.

"I don't really like what this conversation implies." Paradox said in a cautionary tone.

"Calm down, Paradox, it wasn't a threat." Ben assured, rolling his eyes at Paradox's supposed melodramatic attitude.

"It was just the only logical choice for you to have made." Ben finalized, gripping the smoothie cup in his hand loosely.

"Strange, you get smarter by the day, Benjamin." Paradox commented. Ben grinned in a seemingly triumphant way.

"Obviously" Ben stated, raising his newly empty smoothie cup and eyeing it for any remaining contents. He tossed it into a nearby trash bin, standing and signaling for Paradox to do the same.

"Want a smoothie? On me, of course."


	2. A Meeting Among Stars

"Ben, you're late." Max said, looking sternly to his grandson, who had arrived nearly four hours after he had been expected. In his hand was a beverage, marking that he had gone out to eat, and had not been in any rush.

Ben swallowed his mouthful, "I had to stop an invasion a few towns over." Ben excused, uncaring and unapologetic. Max raised a brow, gesturing to the cup. Ben looked to it, frowning for a moment before looking to Max. "It's after noon, Grandpa. I was hungry when I was done, so I ate." Ben explained, idly rubbing at a small sore spot on his arm, obscured by his jacket.

"You should have called me, Ben. You can't be this irresponsible!" Max berated, astounded by the display of immaturity.

"Hey, I was doing my job-"

"But you should have called Rook, at the least! What if something had happened to you, and no one knew where you were?"

"I have faith in my abilities, and your guys's, I'm sure we can take anything that's handed to us." Ben dismissed. "And, besides, I didn't have my phone on me, so I couldn't call you, anyway." Ben paused, surveying the elder, "But I'll be more careful next time and try to make sure to bring my phone. Are we good?" Ben asked, smiling. Max stared at him, before sighing and adopting his own smile, albeit smaller.

"Yes, that about covers it." Max said, "Now, come on, you're on surveillance duty for the rest of your shift."

-Earlier that Mornimg

Ben's consciousness rose, like ice amidst water, as he slowly woke. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, groaning as he took notice of the stiffness of his body, a stiffness born from the scratchy, grass and pebble covered surface he had slept on. Suddenly, he realized that the stony grass was not his mattress, and that this was not his bedroom. Far more quickly, his eyes snapped about, looking around to try and establish his whereabouts.

A quick look to his left relayed a roofed picnic building, fare in size and decently kept, though it was void of people. A look down told him that he was atop the grass, though it was not of an especially soft sort. Many small pebbles, like shards of ground stone, served as his dusty bedding. He looked to his right, eyes widening slightly before recognition calmed him.

Bellwood, being a part of New York, had plenty of beaches. Even without having to venture over and gaze to the land below, he recognized the sea before him, the distant boats and the netting which outlined the swim area. It was a beach he and Gwen had frequented especially during their earlier youth, but this spot, this sparsely used spot, forgotten by most, was where had had found himself.

It hadn't been an especially bad spot; the view was decent and the height was fairly high, good for a cannonball, but the shallow waters and many rocks seemed to act as a rule breaker. There were better ledges, borderline cliffs, to serve the purpose of a jumping spot. There were better picnic areas without the uncomfortable grass and stones. Even so, or perhaps especially so, this spot had been his, bit why was he here?

Ben remembered, distinctly, this area having been remodeled following a report on the local news. Among other things, one of which being a newly installed fence, a public statement and warning had been set nearly three years ago, an immediate response to a safety risk proven by someone having fallen the distance and broken an arm and several ribs by having hit the rocks below.

The raven approached the ledge, looking along the rocks and dirt, but found no hint of a fence or any other installment. Similarly, the rocks below, which had been removed, had been left untouched. Ben frowned, raising an arm and pinching hard. 'Definitely not a dream...' he thought, rubbing the sore spot of his arm.

"Hurting yourself is pointless, #1.111119, please reframe from doing so." A silky voice, so very similar to Ben's own, called out. Ben spun around, his movements quick. Too quick. In his haste to stand and turn, his balance was lost, nearly causing him to fall from where he had crouched. He was saved solely by a lone tendril of green light, which wrapped around his wrist and pulled him back to the grass.

Ben inhaled deeply, the breath having been knocked from him at the collision with the ground. "Phew, that was close." Ben breathed, looking behind himself. He looked around again, searching for the source of the voice. His eyes trained to the light still coiled around his arm.

On closer inspection, he found it to be of a ropey design; having been crafted from countless strings of far thinner light. The material itself reminded him faintly of Gwen's mana shield, only the color was obviously different and the consistency far thicker and cloudier. If he looked close enough, he could see ever so slightly through it, but the image was blurred.

He traced the whip, following its length to its source. "So, who are-oh, hi." Ben finally spotted the other person, sitting atop the roof of the picnic building. Those multicolored eyes peered through him, their uncanny vibrance stealing Ben's attention. Ben looked back to the whip, once again eyeing it, "Aren't you that 'Puppet' guy?" He asked.

"It's Marionette, and yes." Marionette said, holding a hand out to the side as the whip undid itself, reverting into strings before receding into his fingertips. Ben scanned the other person again, noting just how...plain he was. Save for his eyes, he looked very normal, albeit a little androgynous and slim. This was a far cry from the masked, obscured form he had met before, and the voice-no longer morphed by the mask-was far different. Even so, he still held a very distinct "Ben Tennyson", and his eyes-though abnormal-were near impossible to misplace.

"Well, I'm Ben-"

"You're a Ben." Marionette corrected.

"And I have no idea where I am right now, how I got here, or why you're here. Mind explaining?" Ben asked, dusting himself off and trying to tame his disturbed hair, searching the ebony locks for small stones, grass, and insects. Thankfully, other than a single pebble, it was fine.

"Well, I am here confer with you, 17.111119." Marionette stated.

"Okay, you haven't answered my other questions, and I don't really like being called 1.-something, but go on."

"A contract is needed between you and I. I mean to make that contract now." Cayden explained.

"And you want a contract because...?" Ben asked.

"Because you're part of the group. The clan, the citadel, the Benedel, whatever name they end up choosing."

"One of those names sound awesome to me." Ben interjected.

"It would help if they chose a name more respectable, more explanatory, but what word have I in such matters?" Marionette asked, ever so slightly sarcastic. He sighed, before continuing. "You met with Prism a short while ago. A day or two, I think. Prism is their unofficial leader. No matter the manner they decide to choose their leaders once the group is official, I'm sure she will lead."

"And you don't think she should play, at the very least, a part in that? She is the one who lead the development of the inter-dimensional communication thing." Ben reminded.

Marionette scowled, "Seems to me that someone is of a thicker sort. Let me remind you, 1.111119, that it is not, nor was it, a novel creation. Plenty of people, far more respectable, have created and used it. Paradox used it, Eon the Vile used it, even Vilgax used it!" Marionette reminded. She calmed, exhaling, before continuing. "We've gotten off topic. My reasoning is that you didn't have access to inter-dimensional technologies before, and now you do." Marionette pointed towards himself, "I've had it all along, and with proper backing, methods, and licensing. You have none of those. You have 'hands on learning' on how not to vomit directly after displacement, but you have no legal protection nor education for the damage you may cause. That is where I come in." He continued, his voice adopting an almost mocking undertone before returning to a more lively monotone.

Marionette fished something from his cargo pant's pocket, holding up a small badge, "I am a fully certified traveler and an honorary deputy of the ST Tract under authority of the Apex Empire. I can offer you leeway you would not have access to otherwise."

"In exchange for?"

"Among other things, your loyalty. For my protection and any additional services in your realm, you are to align with me should anything go awry with the union. When in my realm, you may find reasonable food, shelter, and medical assistance so long as you follow a few simple rules." Marionette paused, allowing for his words to sink in. When Ben looked ready to question him further, he continued.

"You are to respect my authority, and that of Apex. You are not, unless in self defense, attack the other members of the contract-you will know them when you see them. And, most important of all, you are to deactivate your omnitrix, ultimatrix, or any other variant of the device, so long as you are in my realm. If you fail to do so, yours will be confiscated."

"No."

"It will be compensated for with weaponry, comradeship, some form of translator, and any other needed technologies."

"I said 'no'."

"And benefits will be included for long-term membership, once your loyalty is proven, of course." Cayden said, speaking as if not hearing Ben's refusal. He slid down the slope of the roof, landing feet first on the ground. Without missing a beat, Marionette reached out his hand, which had begun to glow from the electric blue flames which had engulfed it. The blue light was beaconing, but it reminded Ben all too well of what one might expect from a demon.

"I'm not joining you, and I'm not giving you my omnitrix." Ben stated, his voice imposingly final. Cayden stared at him, lips pressing into a thin, disapproving line.

"You are not the first to refuse." Marionette said softly, eyes distant. In an instant, the blaze had vanished, the alternate retracted his arm, flames recessing as if into his skin. He whipped his hand in a slight arc, a card appearing in his grasp from the nothing it had been moments before. A faint green glow was emitted from the card, but the light was gone within a blink. Marionette extended his arm once more, this time offering the conjured plastic. "If you ever change your mind..." Marionette's eyes flashed from a bright refulgence, "I'll be around."

Marionette engulfed into light and a green-tinged mist, which then imploded before disappearing. Ben coughed, fanning the air to rid it of the odd mix of citrus and flower nectar which had flooded his lunges. After a moment, the scent lessened, and the air thinned. Ben looked around, as if to see if the strange other would reappear nearby. When the svelte brunette went unseen, Ben relaxed. He caught sight of the discarded card, which shone with a iridescence.

Ben starred at it, instantly noticing the large green X inscribed to its surface. Other than that, however, it was plain. Suddenly, Ben jolted, as if from a shockwave, his vision erupting with light. Ben woke up.


	3. Chapter 3

A Beneficial Union: Chapter 3; Musings

-Dimension #20.55551

Ben yawned, stretching his arms above him and sighing as many pops sounded, a sense of mild satisfaction resonating within him. With a dopey smile, he rolled, escaping the cocoon of blankets that was his bed. His room, albeit messy, greeted him. He smiled again, before walking away and towards the bathroom by his room to begin his day.

It was a Sunday, and his parents were undoubtedly at work by now. Or, well, his father was at work and his mother a yoga class, but he digressed.

"Good morning, Benni." He greeted himself, his shining twin mimicking his every motion. The bathroom light shone on the mirror's smooth, polished surface. His hair, bangs long and acting as lowered curtains to his olive green eyes, was the perfect showcase of bedhead. He scratched his neck, gently rubbing against the faded bruising, and then continued onwards with his daily schedule.

Around noon, Benni had journeyed to his favorite restaurant; a small sushi joint owned by the Yamamoto family. He had to travel the distance on foot, as he didn't own a car-though he did have a license. He hummed, enjoying the warm weather and the chatter of the birds.

As he proceeded further, the sounds of bird song grew more subdued, and the whizzing of speeding vehicles escalated. He lived in the upper part of town, a subset of blocks with an almost suburb design in mind, an intricate swirl of roads and houses which would hinder most vehicle travelers with the lengthy driving time. However, as he was not moving through such a machine, he was able to travel through shortcuts. Cutting through alleyways and yards, he neared his destination.

About three blocks away from the restaurant, Benni slowed, browse knitting at an odd sensation which sparked through his chest. It wasn't heartburn, yet-for the briefest of moments-his chest was filled with a spike of heat, uncomfortable and disorienting. He looked around, confusion plaguing him, but he saw nothing, and the feeling a had dissipated to only a minor, nearly nonexistent warmth. He continued onwards with a shrug, though he noted to throw out the remains of the leftovers he had eaten for breakfast. It tasted good, odd as that mossy casserole was, but not worth it.

Ben #12.8673 stepped out I to the alleyway, a white mist-like energy fading from his sight. He smiled, amazed that his query had been true. At the sound of a passing car, 12.8673 jerked from his spot, flattening his body against the wall. After a moment, he realized what had happened, calming and berating himself for his jumpiness. He looked back to his gifted portal, to find it to be merely a stray mirror left alone, leaning against the wall beside a dumpster. Perplexed-and, if he were honest, a little annoyed-12.8673 inspected it.

It was dirty, dingy even, with some areas of the glass bathed in dirt, and the frame was plain. It was a simple, rectangular mirror. With a grumble, 12.8673 looked out into the street, scanning for any semblance of futuristic or alien technology. None could be seen. However, he also caught whiff of no grand urgency-no more than could be expected in the more rural areas of New York-and no sign of war or desperation.

"That's a relief, I won't have to deal with any invaders or cross fire here." 12.8673 said with a relieved sigh. He had traveled to up to five realms in his time, and so very frequently he would find them to be barren, disastrous, more so the more recent he went. Then again, he had been using an entirely different method of inter-dimensional travel; a spell which he had sought-and failed-to master. Transportation was simply far too difficult a feet to do by oneself, but with an enchanted device-such as the mirror from which he had come-most of the work is already done in advance, and there was seemingly no selecting of new paths which to travel to. It was as easy as swimming through a lit channel, all the while a strong current ushered him in one direction; forwards.

12.8673, after having been satisfied with his surveying of what he could see, left the alleyway, quickly snapping an image of the location, solidifying it in his mind so as to not forget his way home should things turn sour.

J.T. met up with Benni at the restaurant, and their orders were made and quickly served. The server, an older teen with short black hair pulled into a bun and dark, brown eyes, reminded Benni of Julie; someone for whom he held something of a crush towards and who hung out often with his cousin. Of course, there were recognizable traits due to the server-and, additionally, the family to own the restaurant-to be related to Julie and her immediate family.

Contemplations of the tennis player dispersed, the entrance of another person the cause of distraction. For a person to come in wasn't too abnormal, especially at noon, but what had caught his attention was the strange appearance of the other, male, he assumed.

He moved with a certain confidence, an almost acerbic dignity, coming close and boldly sitting down not two stools away from where Benni sat at the front counter. The short distance, especially when the restaurant was nearly empty other than the three, brought a mild discomfort, but the close proximity allowed for Benni to more closely inspect the other person's odd appearance.

His hair was brown at the roots, but transitioned smoothly into a bright white, which held a pink tint, and the tips were frosted a deeper pink. The skin from halfway down his threat and bellow was purple, and of a slightly shinier consistency, and the rest of his skin held a slight purple tint. His eyes, unnaturally vivid, had dual hues: one of that same magenta pink, and then of light amethyst.

Those eyes, bright and piercing, slid over towards Benni. The other person smirked, almost derisively, and he turned his head towards him. "I know that I'm a sight to behold, but you do know that a picture would last longer, right?" He said, voice slick and smooth and uncomfortably similar to Benni's own, though his was far clearer and almost sultry in its tones, though his eyes betrayed a deriding, mischievous intent behind his actions.

Benii looked away, face flushing at having been caught ogling at the strange other. J.T. noticed this, giving Benni a perplexed look, having been watching a video on his phone and not paying attention. The person chuckled, his smile becoming a bit more genuine. "Aw, come on, I was just kidding." He held out his hand, gesturing for Benni to come closer. J.T., now having been watching, snickered, elbowing Benni and ushering him to converse with the other person.

"Benni, you dog." J.T. said in a hushed voice, making more blood to flood Benni's cheeks. The stranger gathered his food, leaving the counter and gesturing for Benni to do the same. They relocated to a small table in the back. Benni glanced behind him as they left, catching J.T. watching them, grinning hugely. When he noticed Benni's glance, he gave him a thumbs up, before turning back to his food.

Possible different view on conference meeting scene (can 3)

Delaney pondered over when the mundanity of meaningless greetings and valueless niceties would end and the actual reason behind the conference begin. Sure, others had still yet to appear, but whose fault was it if they did not attend? It would be their own fault for missing the event. They were told to be prepared at a set time, and if they failed to, if they were tardy, then too bad.

Honestly, the vast majority of these people had no place being here. Sure, they were-as 'Marionette' and Prism had said-'liberated', but many alternates other than those present had been liberated in the past, who was to decide who was worth attendance and who wasn't? Why did he even have to bother with such affairs? It was just a waste of his time.

Bored, even more so than he was used to, Delaney allowed himself to speculate, eyeing each of the arrivals and trying to infer from what kind of living situation and condition each attendee had come from. He spotted an alternate with a history of sunburns. His burnt, flakey face moved as he spoke, conversing with his neighbors. His orange eyes, spiked hair, and wrapped neck pointed in the direction of one of the many timelines in which devastation had come following some invasion, a resistance being set in some kind of desert. It was always the deserts. Always, whenever there would be an invasion-turned-war, the remaining pockets of humanity would reside within the more extreme environments earth had to offer. Mostly deserts.

Delaney did not like deserts-during the day, at least. Too hot and dry. At night, most were bitingly cold, but still too dry, and too sandy.

Another location frequently used were rain forests. Too humid, too many bugs, and too loud. Of course, 'Marionette' frequented these all, naturalistically observing the realm's inhabitant and compiling information-pros and cons-on who could qualify as a candidate. That was really boring, though. Delaney hated having to go along when 'Marionette' did those.

He preferred when the other journeyed with Oku or simply traveled in a metaphysical form. During those, Delaney didn't have to go, didn't have to do anything. Actually, he almost liked it when 'Marionette' went metaphysical; it was cool. He almost wished he, too, could go metaphysical and go about his business in other people's dreams. Oh, the dreams he would create! They wouldn't be able to sleep for weeks!

Delaney calmed himself, and then noticed the feeling of eyes burying into him, twin lasers of interest. Lazily, he looked to whomever dared to bother him, even in such a meager manner. When he locked sight of the miscreant, he glared, annoyed at this person's sheer gall of trying to decode him, as if he were a book.

'Marionette' noticed this, and tapped lightly on the table, just where his hand had been. "You're being hypocritical, Delaney. Play nice, and leave him alone." 'Marionette' grumbled, his elegant, cultured voice being marked by the stupid, pointless mask which he always wore to such occasions. Seriously, he was another alternate, such disguise was less than dirt in protecting his identity or whatever he thought the porcelain might accomplish.

Delaney looked away from the bare, insipid design of the mask, looking to the table with muted interest, "this meeting is pointless." He muttered.

"Hush. It's starting." 'Marionette' chided, a sharp dinging coming as another worked for the attention of all in attendance.

/A:N/ I can't think fo what to do for the cover T-T I need ideas.


End file.
